I was going through my photobucket and found this from 2 years ago:
Draw your own conclusions.
Anyhoo, me lately? The usual. I am just working, chilling around my apartment, raising my parrot and watching stand-up comedy. John Oliver's New York Stand Up Show is really excellent. I was excited when I kept seeing the adverts for it, and much to my giggling and laughing joy, it delivered. It blows Live at Gotham completely out of the water. Not only because the acts are longer, but the people he brings on are also much funnier. Maria Bamford, for example, OMG HILARIOUS. Eugene Mirman, also fantastic. If you've never seen any of John Oliver's work outside of The Daily Show (which is still awesome), including his hour-long special "Terrifying Times", then you are lame and need to see it.
When I move to Minneapolis, I'm going to spend the majority of my time at comedy clubs, drinking Irish beer and laughing my ass off. It's going to be ultra mega awesome.
At the moment? It seems that it's 2:33AM and I have to be at work in 3 1/2 hours. I went ahead and got way too drunk Saturday night, and the boy and I didn't get home until 2:30AM. When I woke up at 8:00AM, I realized in a sad, sad way that maybe a pitcher of PBR + three bottles of Killian's + a Jolly Rancher shot (which was described to me as tequila, watermelon flavored liquor and something else equally as unfortunate) was a bad idea. After passing back out, I didn't wake up until later that afternoon, which is why I'm in this predicament. Cheap drunks are not hangover-savvy.
...Yup.
Oats got hos lined up for miles, son.
He is way too cute as usual, but he's also a little on the spunky side it turns out. He refuses to be touched if he's on top of his cage, so we have to wait for him to get bored and leap off of it to play with or train him. Otherwise, he's all nippy and bitchy. But when we've got him perched on our fingers and shoulders, he's playful and adorable as can be. After doing the math, at six months he'll be 2 years old in parrot years, so he's probably got that "terrible twos" thing going on.
His latest adventure was trying to bathe him. If he could communicate with us using articulate English, I'm sure he'd say something like, "Are you fucking kidding me, Mom and Pops?" I cleared off and cleaned the bathroom sink, covered the mirror and picked him up, gently talking to him, and placed him in the sink. And I was expecting for him to hate it, which he did, but instead of getting squawky and mad, he was just depressed-looking. Poor baby.
I'm just going to get a misting bottle and try spray-bathing him, seeing if he's cool with that.
Lately he's been playing with this small plastic duck I got out of a 25-cent machine, carrying it around like I would imagine a child would carry around a stuffed animal. I melted like any bird-mom would and tried to snap a picture, but Oats also fucking hates having his picture taken. Once he saw me going "Awwwww, my good little boooyyyy" and going up to him with the camera, he'd drop his duck immediately and skitter to the other end of his perch. The little dickens.
To conclude, I'm boring. If you read that long-winded shit, you must love me something fierce. Haha.
xoxo
KAV
Draw your own conclusions.
Anyhoo, me lately? The usual. I am just working, chilling around my apartment, raising my parrot and watching stand-up comedy. John Oliver's New York Stand Up Show is really excellent. I was excited when I kept seeing the adverts for it, and much to my giggling and laughing joy, it delivered. It blows Live at Gotham completely out of the water. Not only because the acts are longer, but the people he brings on are also much funnier. Maria Bamford, for example, OMG HILARIOUS. Eugene Mirman, also fantastic. If you've never seen any of John Oliver's work outside of The Daily Show (which is still awesome), including his hour-long special "Terrifying Times", then you are lame and need to see it.
When I move to Minneapolis, I'm going to spend the majority of my time at comedy clubs, drinking Irish beer and laughing my ass off. It's going to be ultra mega awesome.
At the moment? It seems that it's 2:33AM and I have to be at work in 3 1/2 hours. I went ahead and got way too drunk Saturday night, and the boy and I didn't get home until 2:30AM. When I woke up at 8:00AM, I realized in a sad, sad way that maybe a pitcher of PBR + three bottles of Killian's + a Jolly Rancher shot (which was described to me as tequila, watermelon flavored liquor and something else equally as unfortunate) was a bad idea. After passing back out, I didn't wake up until later that afternoon, which is why I'm in this predicament. Cheap drunks are not hangover-savvy.
...Yup.
Oats got hos lined up for miles, son.
He is way too cute as usual, but he's also a little on the spunky side it turns out. He refuses to be touched if he's on top of his cage, so we have to wait for him to get bored and leap off of it to play with or train him. Otherwise, he's all nippy and bitchy. But when we've got him perched on our fingers and shoulders, he's playful and adorable as can be. After doing the math, at six months he'll be 2 years old in parrot years, so he's probably got that "terrible twos" thing going on.
His latest adventure was trying to bathe him. If he could communicate with us using articulate English, I'm sure he'd say something like, "Are you fucking kidding me, Mom and Pops?" I cleared off and cleaned the bathroom sink, covered the mirror and picked him up, gently talking to him, and placed him in the sink. And I was expecting for him to hate it, which he did, but instead of getting squawky and mad, he was just depressed-looking. Poor baby.
I'm just going to get a misting bottle and try spray-bathing him, seeing if he's cool with that.Lately he's been playing with this small plastic duck I got out of a 25-cent machine, carrying it around like I would imagine a child would carry around a stuffed animal. I melted like any bird-mom would and tried to snap a picture, but Oats also fucking hates having his picture taken. Once he saw me going "Awwwww, my good little boooyyyy" and going up to him with the camera, he'd drop his duck immediately and skitter to the other end of his perch. The little dickens.
To conclude, I'm boring. If you read that long-winded shit, you must love me something fierce. Haha.
xoxo
KAV
VIEW 17 of 17 COMMENTS
praesepe:
i read it all, I do indeed love you something fierce, and how the fuck could you be boring ? YOU HAVE A PARROT.
deuteranopia:
Next time you have to wear that Ruskie hat you have on in this picture.